


Blind

by wanderingbread



Series: Of Dreams and Snow [1]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Blind Character, Dancing, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Regret, Romance, Soft Elsamaren, Spin-Off, idk if it's a modern au, waltz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22183198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingbread/pseuds/wanderingbread
Summary: Elsa Arendelle was a beautiful rose, burning with passion unmatched by any other. Despite her reserved nature, she was the fairest woman that ever existed inside the capital where others from noble families strive to achieve with expensive jewelry, cosmetics, and dresses; A perfection they hungered for. She was loved and hated by many.Yet, she remained humble and kind with a soul akin to an adventurous doe—pure and innocent. And in Honeymaren’s eyes, she was a deity that cannot be touched at this very moment.
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Series: Of Dreams and Snow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596823
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	Blind

**Author's Note:**

> A spin-off from my previous one-shot with Blankpink's Chaelisa because I loved it so much, and thought that maybe I should share it with you guys in this fandom.
> 
> I didn't have a beat reader, so please bear the mistakes.

Birds perched themselves on the branches, chirping with joyous songs that welcomed the new morning; various flowers of pinks, yellows and reds greeted the spring with a pleasant, vibrant grace against the lush greenery in the gardens. The rustling of the trees was heard along with the cool breeze that slipped through the opened windows which then led to a large balcony of the estate, brushing against her cool skin from across the room.

The bright sunlight spilled into the empty ballroom through the large windows that nearly touched the ceiling, casting a silhouette of the window frames—and the woman that stood there—with motes of dust dancing through the atmosphere. An old grand piano, still in good condition, stood farther on the right near a space that resembles a stage where other performers would play.

Her long hair shone radiantly under the sunlight, cascading down her back like pale golden waterfalls, as she stood by the windows, basking in its secured warmth. Her dress as silver as the glowing moon against the blackest sky, woven from the finest silk and lace, hugged her lithe and fragile frame like a hand holding a delicate wine glass; warming her from the leftover coolness from the night before as it swayed against the gentle breeze. She was still—hands clasped together at her front—like an ivory statue, poised with an elegance acquired through years of dedication.

Elsa Arendelle was a beautiful rose, burning with passion unmatched by any other. Despite her reserved nature, she was the fairest woman that ever existed inside the capital where others from noble families strive to achieve with expensive jewelry, cosmetics, and dresses; A perfection they hungered for. She was loved and hated by many.

Yet, she remained humble and kind with a soul akin to an adventurous doe—pure and innocent. And in Honeymaren’s eyes, she was a _deity_ that cannot be touched at this very moment.

She felt a nudge on her side and Honeymaren turned to see a dimpled, albeit teasing, smile plastered on a younger woman’s freckled face with a mischievous glint in her teal eyes. She briefly glanced down her clothes—dark breeches hugging her toned legs, tucked under her boots that ended around her calves, topped by a white linen shirt under a dark waistcoat. She was _miraculously_ clean after their morning ride, but she felt underdressed.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” her companion whispered and left the room.

Honeymaren took a deep breath, held her chin up, and walked confidently across the empty ballroom towards the noblewoman. However, the confidence was smothered into jittering nerves when Elsa sensed her presence and turned around with a lovely smile. It was magnetizing enough that Honeymaren couldn’t look away. Her hands were beginning to feel clammy as she balled them into fists. She was then overly conscious of the warmth radiating between them and her heart jumped to her throat when her eyes landed on the glazed orbs, momentarily disabling her ability to speak.

Her eyes were as grey as a dove’s feathers, the ones with hue so soft that could be mistaken as the graphite from a pencil, surrounded with a glittering mirth like birds flying across the bluest skies with serene ease. In them were also a canopy of ashes and smoke—thick and suffocating—that held the remains of what was once a lush green pasture, with radiant flowers growing from the earth’s soil, that disappeared from the harrowing fire. There was sorrow underneath those cloud and the rain couldn’t wash it away.

Nevertheless, her eyes stole her breath away.

“How was your ride?” Elsa asked, her voice as sweet as honeycombs, with the smile lingering on her lips. Honeymaren shook herself back into reality as her heart raced against her chest, “I was wondering when you and Anna would come back from the meadows.”

“The usual,” Honeymaren simply, scratching the back of her neck, “How long have you been standing here?”

Elsa shrugged her shoulders, “For a while now, I suppose. I was enjoying the warmth from the sun outside.”

Honeymaren raised a brow, “You could have stepped out into the balcony to enjoy more of its warmth, it would have been easier that way.”

The blonde chuckled softly, a hand instinctively raised to cover her grin, “I came here to play the piano, but I may have gotten a bit distracted.”

Honeymaren frowned. Silence stretched between them. One was unaware of the other’s negative expression, while the other felt terrible about the past. It was these little things that Honeymaren felt helpless and regret inside her chest, wishing that things could have been different than the present they were currently living in. Whenever the noblewoman would talk about the simplest things as the warmth of the sun or a book she loved to read before, it pricks her heart with rusty needles. She unconsciously sighed.

Elsa furrowed her brows, “Is there something wrong, Honeymaren?” the woman in question shook her head, immediately berating herself.

“No…” She said, knowing certainly well that the other woman was unconvinced, “Nothing’s wrong, Elsa.”

Elsa reached out to her and Honeymaren immediately held out an arm for her, the latter gratefully intertwined their arms together. She then guided her to the grand piano across the room.

“You sound crestfallen,” Elsa said while her other hand felt for the surface of the piano. Once she did, her hand caressed the smooth wood as Honeymaren guided her to the bench, “You know it saddens me to hear you bothered or sad.”

Honeymaren sighed once more, “I’m sorry, Elsa. It’s just—”

“It’s because of the accident, isn’t it?” A sad smile was visible on her lips, and Honeymaren couldn’t help but curse herself once more for ruining the bright morning mood. She watched Elsa open the lid of the piano and run her fingers on the black and white keys, seemingly missing the familiarity of it under her fingers, before beginning to play a piece. _Mozart_.

Despite her inability to see, Honeymaren was amazed with Elsa’s passion for music and her determination to relearn what she loved doing. However, it only reminded the younger woman of the terrible accident and she would regret being helpless that time—three years ago, in fact.

Honeymaren stood behind her for a while, allowing the blonde woman to play a little bit longer. When she knew the music was reaching to an end, she on the empty space beside Elsa— the heavy feeling still lingering in her chest, “It’s difficult to forget about it, Elsa. Especially when you mention simple things like your books, the outdoors or this...”

Elsa stopped playing, her fingers ghosting above the keys. She let out a small sigh before speaking in the soft course voice Honeymaren had grown to love over the years, “Stop looking back into the past, _Honey_ …” Her hands felt for the lid, delicately closed them down, and turned to the younger woman’s direction. She carefully reached out to cup Honeymaren’s face and caressed her cheeks, “I’m not there anymore, I’m here. No amount of wishing could change what happened and all we could do is look forward to the future while enjoying ourselves in the present.”

“I’m sorry,” Honeymaren sighed, “I—”

“Shh…” Elsa hushed like a gentle mother and leaned close against the brunette, their foreheads touching, “Stop thinking about it. It won’t do you any good, darling.”

Honeymaren closed her eyes, allowing the other woman’s presence to steal the regrets inside her chest away. The chirping birds outside became clearer and the midsummer breeze tickled her skin once more as the tranquil _silence_ stretched between them disappeared into the horizon. She opened her eyes and immediately gazed into the noblewoman’s; her heart fastened at the sudden consciousness of their _close_ vicinity. She held one of the hands that cupped her face, eliciting a faint gasp from Elsa, and leaned her cheeks into her warm touch.

“Is there one thing that you would love to learn again?” She asked, knowing that the blonde would appreciate the change of subject. A small smile graced on her lips.

“I would love to learn to dance again,” Elsa shyly said, a faint blush appearing across her faint freckled cheeks, “Will you teach me?”

Honeymaren slowly stood herself away from the noblewoman, her hand still holding hers, and stood up. She patiently guided Elsa to the center of the ballroom. She took the Elsa’s free hand to rest on her shoulder and held out their glued hands, then placed her own on the small of her slender waist— gently pulling her closer.

“It’s been a while since I’ve danced,” Elsa softly said, a shy smile on her lips, “Apologies in advance when I step on your feet.”

Honeymaren grinned lovingly, “Don’t worry, you’ll do wonderful.”

“I might as well play the piano for you guys,” someone said from across the ballroom and Honeymaren turned to Anna leaning casually against the marbled pillar, “You’d look awkward dancing without music.”

“Please do,” Elsa said softly, the blush still on her cheeks. Honeymaren gave a curt nod to the younger sister who quickly settled herself at the piano. When Anna began to play, Honeymaren couldn’t help but snort and Elsa let out a chuckle. It was dramatic for an intro (that lasted a minute).

“Tchaikovsky,” Elsa said as they composed themselves _._ She grinned, “Waltz of the Flowers.”

Honeymaren smiled, “From that play The Nutcracker, was it?” Elsa nodded, “I’ll take a step back soon, and I promise that I’ll take care of you.” When the music _finally_ fell into a familiar tune of _one, two, three._ Honeymaren took a step back, just as she had said, and Elsa took a step forward. It was a bit tentative from the loss of practice, but she knew that the noblewoman would remember.

Besides, once you learned waltz, you never forget how to dance to it.

She dances; Elsa dances. They danced into the steady rhythm of the piano’s music and the well-worn steps fell into the back of her head as Honeymaren’s mind began to wander, right when she saw a glisten of mirth in her dance partner’s eyes. She could never forget how her eyes, so bright and blue like the morning sky, would twinkle like the stars under the candlelight when they danced to various tunes of the waltz. It has been a long time since the last.

Honeymaren had nearly forgotten how good it had felt. How the space between them dared to cross intimacy; hand to hand, chest to chest. Elsa was warmer than the fire burning in the furnaces, yet she could feel the shivers from every point they made contact; from Elsa’s hand in hers, to the one resting on her shoulder and down to her own the small of the blonde’s waist. She swore that her heart would burst at any minute now.

“Where’s your mind run off to this time?” Elsa said, a teasing grin on her face. Honeymaren shook her head back into reality, having been caught being absent while they danced. She suddenly spun her around and Elsa squeaked. She got caught on her own foot, but Honeymaren was there to save her from the embarrassment before landing on the same steps once more. She chuckled.

“You are cold,” Elsa shook her head, giggling anyway.

Honeymaren shrugged, “I had a feeling you were getting bored.”

They quickened their pace as the music picked up. Dancing around the ballroom as they had once done millions of times in the past, before falling into a finish—right as the music ended. Elsa was breathing heavily, having not used to dancing for three years now. Honeymaren turned to Anna who had gave a curt nod before leaving them. She turned back to Elsa and leaned their foreheads together. Elsa closed her eyes, savoring their _intimate_ closeness as much as she could. It’s always been like that.

“For someone who hasn’t been dancing, you fell right back into it the moment the song began,” Honeymaren said, her voice falling into a whisper, “I doubt there was any need of me to teach you, Elsa.”

Elsa smiled and pulled away, “It gets lonely when you’re not around, Honeymaren.”

Honeymaren raised a hand and pushed the strand of blonde hair behind her ears. A blush dusted across Elsa cheeks and, just like that, she became shy in front of her _best friend._ She kept an arm around her waist and pulled the woman even closer. Elsa gasped.

Her voice dropped when she asked, “How long are we going to play this game, darling? You know, as well as I do, that I had romantic feelings for you right from the beginning you saved this little ole stable girl from drowning.”

Elsa shrugged her shoulders, a grin on her face, “I’m already guilty for playing coy around you, Ms. Nattura, yet you are just as guilty as me.”

“Honestly, I’m more of a nervous wreck than you,” She chuckled. Elsa leaned closer and rested her head against Honeymaren’s shoulder, sighing. Silence stretched between them before Elsa lifted her head up once more and cupped her face once again.

“I miss looking at you, Honeymaren…” She admitted, “You have no idea what I’d give to turn back time just to see you again.”

Honeymaren leaned closer to the warm, soft hands that held her. Words had stuck themselves in her throat and she swallowed back the lump that had formed. She took a deep breath and sighed, “You said it yourself. We can only look forward to the future and enjoy ourselves in the present,” she leaned closer and she could feel the noblewoman’s warm breath against her lips, “I, for one, look forward to what the present would give.”

She closed her eyes and _finally_ captured her lips. Elsa let out a soft gasp. Honeymaren’s heart raced when Elsa melted against the kiss and reciprocated, wrapping her slender arms around her neck as she pulled her closer and the kiss went deeper. For too long, they held themselves back for reasons unknown to them. But, Honeymaren always knew that she simply couldn’t speak her heart when Elsa was around.

It’s different now. Honeymaren pulled her closer when they both pulled away to catch their breaths—then captured each other’s lips once more. Their kiss became desperate and passionate, neither of them wanting to let go. However, Elsa moaned and they both stopped. Honeymaren could feel the heat going up to her cheeks and a faint blush was visible on Elsa’s as well.

They waited _too_ long.

“Uhm—uh,” Honeymaren stuttered, not knowing where to start. She felt too warm and it was bothering her more than the last time, which happened to be walking into Elsa getting dressed because the latter said she was _already_ decent.

Elsa pressed a quick peck on her lips and asked, “My quarters or yours?”

Honeymaren widened her eyes, surprised. Though she shouldn’t have been considering how daring this woman was sometimes; most of the time Elsa was a delicate and perfectly crafted Goddess. She shook her head, pulling herself back into reality before her mind would wander farther.

“Are you sure?”

Elsa merely smiled, “You and I have been waiting for too long, Honey. It’s about time we’ve done _something_ about it.”

“I can’t say no to that, can I?” Honeymaren asked, jokingly, and Elsa shook her head, “Take my arm and I’ll guide you to your quarters. We wouldn’t want the others to think too much if we go to mine.”

Elsa held unto her arm and allowed herself to be led, once more, by the brunette, “Next time then,” she said as they left the ballroom.

\--

“I bet they’ll spend the night together,” Anna grinned as she leaned back against the chair, hands locked behind her head and feet resting on the table. Her husband stood by the fireplace, shaking his head.

“Oh God, it took them what? Five years of that ‘push and pull’ was it?” Anna nodded and Kristoff chuckled, “Ryder always tells me that he was _this_ close in locking them inside a closet.” He emphasized with a minuscule space between his fingers.

Anna chuckled, “Oh well, at least they finally _acknowledged_ their feelings.”


End file.
